


love, like the edge of a blade

by schweet_heart



Series: Merlin Fic [68]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Breathplay, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Edging, Hate Sex, Knifeplay, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Magic Revealed, Merlin's Magic Revealed, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pornalot, Teasing, remix eligible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 03:03:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11865315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schweet_heart/pseuds/schweet_heart
Summary: He could easily kill Merlin like this, yet Merlin knows,knowsthat he won’t, and that certainty is enough to let him tilt his head, baring his throat to the knife.Written for Pornalot 2017 Challenge #2 (Tease).





	love, like the edge of a blade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pelydryn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pelydryn/gifts).



> For Pelydryn, because your evilness is apparently, ahem, rubbing off on me ;)

 

Merlin stumbles back until he hits the wall, and Arthur is suddenly in his space, the gleam of his hunting dagger far too close to Merlin’s skin.

“What’s the matter, _Mer_ lin,” he purrs as Merlin jolts, pinning him in place with a casual hand at his throat. “Surely you’re not afraid of a simple little knife?” The blade slides lower, pressing flat along Merlin’s tunic until it stops at the base of his ribs. “I thought you could take me apart with less than one blow.”

Merlin swallows hard, not daring to move. He’s been waiting for the storm to break since they’d turned for home, since he’d saved Arthur’s life and damned himself in the same breath, but now that the moment has come he feels blindsided, unsure which way to turn for the best. The only thing he does know is that using his magic right now would be disastrous, so he stays silent.

“Perhaps you were wondering how dangerous it could really be,” Arthur continues, his voice steady and conversational. “You’ve never killed anyone with a knife, have you?”

Still mute, Merlin shakes his head.

“But you have with magic?”

Merlin nods his head.

“I thought so.” Arthur studies him, gloved fingers tightening painfully against Merlin’s nape. “Well, let me enlighten you. It’s not so simple to kill a man with a blade, especially one as small as this. You have to make sure you have the angle right, up between the ribs and into the heart.” He leans closer. “You have to look him in the eyes.”

For a long moment, Merlin holds his breath. Arthur’s eyes on his are dilated and black, the blue reduced to a thin sliver around the perimeter. There is anger in his gaze, but something else as well, something that sends the blood rushing to Merlin’s groin in a flood of unbearable heat. Arthur presses a thumb into the divot beneath Merlin’s Adam’s apple, thigh edging between his legs, and Merlin bites back a startled groan.

“Of course–– ” the knife moves, and now Merlin can feel the cold steel like a kiss at his throat, trailing below his jaw, “ ––the easiest way to kill a man is to make one little cut, right…about…here.”

He stops again, taunting. Merlin’s pulse thunders beneath the tip of the knife, so very, dangerously close to Arthur’s dagger, and there’s adrenaline in his fingertips, magic prickling under his skin like a fight or flight response. He struggles, and Arthur’s thumb digs in even harder, all but cutting off his air. Nerve endings spark behind Merlin’s eyelids, but still he holds back, directing the magic downward into the earth instead of out towards his prince.

Arthur’s mouth grazes Merlin’s lips.

The unexpected sensation is too much. Merlin grinds down, rutting helplessly against Arthur’s leg with a hoarse little moan, his hands tightening on the sleeves of Arthur’s leather jerkin as he tries to keep from being impaled on the knife. There’s only one way this can end, really, but he can see Arthur hasn’t quite realised it yet, still too caught up in the anger and betrayal of what he’d done. He could easily kill Merlin like this, yet Merlin knows, _knows_ that he won’t, and that certainty is enough to let him tilt his head, baring his throat to the knife.

Arthur lets go. The dagger clatters to the floor as Merlin sucks in air, but only for a moment before Arthur crushes their mouths together in a punishing kiss, his fingers rucking up Merlin’s tunic and fumbling for his belt. He bites down hard on Merlin’s lower lip, and _this_ is the Arthur that Merlin knows, the one who could forgive him anything, who might nerve himself to the brink of execution but would go no further.

“Arthur,” he gasps, and Arthur gentles a little, cupping Merlin’s cheeks and resting their foreheads together as he tries to catch his breath.

“What wouldn’t you let me do to you?” he murmurs softly, a look of shame and wonder crossing his face. He sways against Merlin, leaning in to kiss the blossoming bruise at his throat, and strips off his gloves to touch with bare skin. “What wouldn’t you give me if I asked it of you?”

“Nothing,” Merlin says, his voice rough. “There’s nothing, Arthur. Ask me anything.”

“Anything?” Arthur’s hand finds his cock inside his breeches and gives it a wicked stroke, smearing pre-cum down his length to help with the slide. “That’s a dangerous promise, my little bird. What if I decided to take you in the throne room in front of the entire court – have you ride me until you come, wearing nothing but my crown? Would you let me then?”

“Yes,” Merlin breathes, arching his back.

“And if I bent you over the table and had you with my mouth? Opened you up all hot and tight with my tongue and licked you till you screamed?”

“ _God_ , Arthur. _Yes_.”

Arthur crowds even closer, his voice so low it almost can’t be heard, his erection burning against Merlin’s thigh. “And if I wanted you to fuck me?” he whispers, like it’s a secret. “Right here, now, like this? What would you say then?”

Merlin chokes, his whole body straining, but Arthur has hold of the base of his cock and ruthlessly tightens his grip, keeping him trapped there on the agonising brink of pleasure.

“Please,” Merlin whimpers. “Oh God, _please_ –– ”

“No.” Arthur’s face is flushed and hectic, but Merlin knows that look. “You’ve been keeping secrets from me, _Mer_ lin,” he says, sliding to his knees with a vicious twist of his lips, “so I think it’s about time I withheld some minor details of my own.”


End file.
